


I'm In Love With The Mess: But I Think I Like It

by jiiyongiee



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Depression, M/M, Mental Health Issues, Self-Harm, Self-Hatred
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2017-07-20
Updated: 2017-07-20
Packaged: 2018-12-04 20:00:43
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,708
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11562306
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jiiyongiee/pseuds/jiiyongiee
Summary: Chanyeol is suffering so much but he hides it so well. Each smile on stage has the whole world fooled, except Baekhyun.





	I'm In Love With The Mess: But I Think I Like It

**Author's Note:**

> IMPORTANT:
> 
> This fic is VERY TRIGGERING from the offset and throughout. DO NOT READ if you are triggered by depression, anxiety, eating disorders, graphic depictions of self harm and suicidal thoughts.
> 
> I'm really sorry for the seriousness of the subject of this fic but im currently trying to work stuff out in my own life and i guess this is my way of trying to deal with it. I did not write this to upset or hurt anyone in anyway and all I can do is warn you about what I write.
> 
> If you are willing to keep on reading safely, I do sincerely hope you enjoy this fic.
> 
> \- Riley

The swarm of boys were exhausted as they piled into their dormitory. Like zombies they dragged their feet to their beds, eyes barely open. Perched on the edge of his mattress Chanyeol buried his face in the palms of his hands; taking deep and slow breaths. Overly aware of how thin the walls were kept his voice barely above a whisper. The darkness was infiltrated by his repetitive words of reassurance to himself.

_“You’re going to be okay.”_

The words seemed less convincing each time they were uttered, seemingly like a taunting lie that completely contradicted the tears that rolled down his cheeks. Silent sobs shook through his body as he felt his chest becoming more and more constricted with each breath. His whole being felt numb with the consistent sadness, nothing triggering such a reaction, instead relapsing became a routine. It wasn’t long until Chanyeol’s mantra had changed, enforcing negativity into his mind.

_“I can’t do this.”_

Again.

_“I can’t do this.”_

Again.

_“I can’t do this.”_

Managing to gather the slightest bit of composure, Chanyeol managed to strip of his clothes, crawling under his sheets. Through the dark; a shaking hand edged to his bedside table, in search of the razor blade that ruled over every night. Feeling the cool metal between his fingertips sparked an anxiety that danced around his chest. His other hand traced the uneven scabs that were scattered across his thighs causing the old wounds to sting ever so slightly. He had no choice but to cut across his thighs, with eyes constantly glued to him, it was the only skin he could hide at all times.

Lights from the streets below illuminated his room ever so slightly, allowing him to see the red of the cuts that settled on his skin. With a deep breath, he began to slide the razor edge along the existing scabs, reopening the wounds with a sharp sting. It wasn’t until he would move onto the next cut that he would finally see blood. The crimson liquid pooled and gathered at the deepest part of the wounds, before slowly beginning to drip down the side of Chanyeol’s thigh. Every cut had been reopened when he realised that he was no longer crying. A solemn calmness had fallen on him, causing him to place his blade to one side. He cleaned up what blood he could before his head fell back to hit the pillow, letting himself drift off into his escape.

 

* * *

 

 

The usual 6am alarm awoke Chanyeol from his short sleep, without a single thought to the night before. He began dressing himself before heading into the bathroom. He cleaned his face, hoping that cold water would wake him up slightly but no splashes could wash away the exhaustion. He brushed his teeth sloppily as the door creaked open slightly to reveal a shorter black haired boy.

“Hey Chanyeol.” He muttered as he tiredly approached the sink.

“Morning Baek.” Chanyeol returned, just as monotone. The two didn’t say anything else whilst in the bathroom; Baekhyun had not yet fully awoken in order to be his usual chirpy self, Chanyeol on the other side had not found the inner strength to put on his front yet. As all the boys awoke and readied themselves, they soon all found themselves piling onto their minibuses. Many took it as an opportunity to fall asleep as they travelled towards their schedule but Chanyeol couldn’t quite drift away, sleep never came easy to him in recent months. Despite playing his music loudly through his headphones, he could still hear Baekhyun’s laughs as he chatted idly to Jongdae, a bright smile plastered on both their faces. Chanyeol found himself wishing he could smile like that, without having to force himself, that pure happiness could just consume him somehow. The two boys both turned to look at Chanyeol, eyes staring at him expectantly. It took him a moment to realise that they had asked him a question. Pulling his earphone away he returned the look.

“Huh? What’d you say?”

“We asked if you were alright, you seem a bit off this morning.” Jongdae stated.

Chanyeol forced one of his smiles.

“Yeah I’m fine! Just tired from the schedule.” Jongdae seemed content with that answer but Chanyeol couldn’t help but notice Baekhyun’s disbelieving eyes that lingered on him for a moment too long. It was almost as if Baekhyun knew something, but Chanyeol forced that thought out of his mind. They were nearly at their schedule location, he didn’t have time to be over thinking what Baekhyun’s thoughts were.

First thing planned for the group was a photoshoot that would consume most of the day, upon arriving at the studio, they were all ushered to hair and makeup. Chanyeol slid into one of the makeup chairs before staring at himself in the mirror. He looked horrible, the bags under his eyes were more protruding than usual, the whites of his eyes had a hint of red, not to mention his skin was breaking out badly. With a deep sigh, he realised it was about time to act as his ‘usual’ self to maintain appearances. As his makeup artist approached he flashed a grin before making a joke about how his face would prove to be a difficult task today. His members laughed along with the staff, creating a lively environment in the room but yet again he couldn’t help but notice Baekhyun looking at him through the mirror.

 

* * *

 

 

The lights were almost blinding as they repetitively flashed at Chanyeol, he was used to it however, it was nearing on five years that he’d been stood in front of cameras. Luckily the shoot was in promotion for their upcoming comeback, meaning he was dressed in dark grungy clothing, allowing him to give the camera solemn looks. He hadn’t always hated everything so much; at first, he loved everything about his debut. The performances were fun, the photoshoots weren’t a drag, rehearsals were good exercise and the interviews were hilarious. Something had changed in Chanyeol within the last year however, it hadn’t been noticeable at first, it wasn’t until the sadness had consumed his whole being permanently that he realised something was wrong. All relapses were a complete secret, he knew that even the smallest bit of information coming out could affect his career completely for the rest of his life so he kept it to himself.

Even after months and months Chanyeol had no idea what had pushed him into a rapid descent into depression. Nothing had particularly changed in his life, it was the same busy schedule that he had every day. Although not a concise answer, he had decided to pinpoint it on stress and exhaustion, after all they seemed like perfectly reasonable excuses.

“Alright, Chanyeol, you’re done.” The photographer called, pulling him from his thoughts. Chanyeol politely said his thank yous and bowed his way out of the room. Grabbing his phone from the dressing room, he began heading for outside. It was too busy in the studio, he couldn’t risk feeling overwhelmed again, outside was better though. The fresh air seemed like a natural remedy for his panic attacks and the open space got rid of the claustrophobia he felt. There was only a car park outside but Chanyeol didn’t mind, he simply slid down the wall and took a seat on the concrete. The breeze felt nice against his skin compared to the hot stuffy air that the lights provided inside. It wasn’t long until the opening of the door caught Chanyeol’s attention, causing him to watch as Baekhyun strolled into the car park.

“Oh, there you are, I was wondering where you got to!” Baekhyun said with a sweet smile. He approached the taller boy before taking a seat next to him.

“Yeah, it’s way too hot in there.” Chanyeol murmured, not sure what to say. Baekhyun ignored any hesitation behind Chanyeol’s words and continued to talk on, speaking of how difficult the shoot had been for him, how the chain hanging from his lip was highly uncomfortable. Chanyeol loved how Baekhyun could fill the silence so easily without ever expecting anything in return, he was quite happy to converse with himself if he wasn’t presented with responses. It was slightly comforting hearing Baekhyun chat away, it brought a sense of realism to Chanyeol, that they could converse just as normal people, life wasn’t constantly about their idol status.

Chanyeol must’ve been too deep in his thoughts as a light touch on his thigh brought him back to reality. The touch stung ever so slightly, finger tips pressing down on last night’s wounds.

“Wanna head back inside? I think it’s nearly time for the group photos.” Baekhyun suggested. Chanyeol simply smiled and nodded back at him before pushing himself up from the ground. He offered out a hand to the older boy and pulled him to his feet before the two retreated back inside. No one had quite noticed their disappearance, most of the staff busy working with their other members. The two boys had their hair and makeup retouched before they approached the cameras, all 9 of them being ushered together. Chanyeol had always considered group shots much easier, there was less focus on him to be completely perfect, instead the group could elevate him slightly. It wasn’t long until the act of posing and posing some more became absolutely brain numbing.

Hours passed before the photoshoot was a complete wrap up. The boys got changed back into their own clothes before piling back onto the minibus. Chanyeol slumped into his seat and removed his cap before running his fingers through his red hair with a heavy sigh. There was barely a moment before Baekhyun slid into the empty seat next to him.

“Hey, we’re thinking of going for a barbeque, you game?” Eating had been proving a difficult task in recent months, at night he found himself heaving over the toilet, sadness pushing all contents from his stomach to his throat. He couldn’t pass a meal with his members though, it was too obvious that something was wrong. He smiled brightly before replying.

“Only if you’re paying!” he joked, earning a playful hit from his friend.

“Looks like you’re going home then, I’m not paying for anything!” Baekhyun giggled. The black-haired boy grabbed his phone from his pocket and plugged in his headphones, offering one bud to Chanyeol. The younger accepted it and pressed it into his ear, waiting for Baekhyun to pick a song. There had always been something odd about his relationship with the older singer, a weird tension that created a veil around them. Chanyeol never knew if it was just enough to call it sexual tension, maybe from Baekhyun’s perspective maybe but the redhead had never viewed his friend in that way. Of course, the fans had their theories and fantasies about the two but that was as far as it would ever get, to pursue anything more than a friendship would be so odd. That never changed the tension, it was strange, he always felt it was something that Baekhyun wanted. A one-sided lust, and it would stay that way. The friendship was too good to ruin, in a way Baekhyun was Chanyeol’s crutch, even if he didn’t know it.

 

* * *

 

 

The drive hadn’t been long, in fact Chanyeol even found it slightly enjoyable. In the end, the two had discarded the headphones and sang along loudly with the rest of the members, mimicking each other’s voices, parodying their own songs. Baekhyun’s hand had grazed against Chanyeol’s on the occasion, sending a shock of foreign energy through the younger but he forced it from his mind. The group had left the minibus and fled into a small barbeque restaurant where they were ushered into a backroom to eat. Everyone lazily dropped to the floor around the table complaining about all their aches and pains, of course being the long legged clumsy person, he is, Chanyeol did not sit down all too gracefully at all earning laughs from his friends. All he could think about were the stings from his cuts however, instantly dampening any temporary happiness in him.

A general decision around the table was to drink Soju, a little part of Chanyeol was thankful for that. He loved drinking recently. It made that feigned happiness seem just a bit more real, even if it was just for one night. Sometimes he even got so drunk that he passed out before he even had the chance to cut, those nights were a small victory. The group let out cheers and laughs as they began to pour back their shots, laughing at Sehun when he laughed as he swallowed, causing him to choke and snort the liquid out. Soon a scent of pork grilling filled the room and rumbling stomachs could be heard from all round the table.

“Hey Chanyeol, are you excited about your song being on the album?” Junmyeon asked with a smile. He’d always been a motherly figure to them all, there was always a kindness behind his eyes.

“I mean, yeah it’s really exciting. It feels like I’m debuting all over again!” he lied.

“Let’s drink to Chanyeol and his song!” Jongdae roared over excitedly as he lifted yet another shot of soju to the ceiling. The group followed suit and then they all drank. Chanyeol just couldn’t help but notice Baekhyun’s eyes burning into him from across the table, it was like they were trying to figure out a puzzle; he simply dismissed it though.

 

* * *

 

 

Unsurprisingly, after the majority of the boys had slipped into a well needed sleep, Chanyeol found himself bent over the toilet, getting a disgustingly familiar sight of his pork from just hours before. His stomach muscled ached so much as they contracted violently when there was just nothing left to come out of him. Wiping away the tears that stained his cheeks, he flushed the reminder of his illness away and brushed the taste away from his mouth. Bloodshot eyes starred in the mirror, barely recognising the reflection. He had no idea who he’d become, who this broken excuse of a man was that was staring back at him. His bottom lip quivered slightly as his eyes scrunched up, desperately holding in the sob that was inevitably going to escape anyway. He couldn’t look at his reflection anymore, he couldn’t stand the smudged eyeliner, or the bright red that coloured his hair, it wasn’t him.

_“It’s not me.”_

Again.

_“It’s not me.”_

Again

_“It’s not fucking me.”_

Every inch of his skin itched, screaming out wanting to be hurt, wanting what it deserved. Teary eyes glanced down to his wrist, unsettled with how empty and smooth the skin under his tattoo looked. Every ounce of his being just wanted to run a blade across that skin, see it break and watch as the blood swarmed along the little red line. Without even a thought he found his nails digging into the soft flesh, dragging along, creating their own little red lines that would be gone when the morning comes. He hated the lack of blood. That was always the most satisfying part, it was almost as if he was bleeding the illness out, letting the depression drip away slowly with each droplet of the crimson liquid. There was no point in fighting the urge any longer, he had to find his way back to his room; his being screamed for it. Biting his lip hesitantly he riffled through the bathroom cabinet until he found exactly what he was searching for. A small forgotten packet of painkillers that had been shoved to the back, the ones the doctors had giving Jongin after his foot injury. Checking the packet, he saw that they were strong, really strong. It read not to take more than two, ignoring the warning he took five, washing them back with water from the sink. He didn’t take enough to put himself in danger but mixed with the alcohol it would be quick for him to sleep and his sleep would most certainly be deep. And with that, he sulked to his room, to become victim to his own self-abuse yet again.


End file.
